Park Bench
by Fluffy Bunnies Are So Cute
Summary: He was handsome. But he was silent to the girls that continuously flirted with him at the park benches. He moved benches daily, swerving around all the stalkerish girls. When he has no place to sit besides next to a stranger, he takes his chances. It was a girl. Not just any girl. One that didn't stalk him, rather intrigued him. One named Max. FAX.
1. The Park Bench

**Summary: **He was handsome. But he was silent to the girls that continuously flirted with him at the park benches. He moved benches daily, swiftly dodging and maneuvering around all the stalkerish girls. When he has no place to sit besides next to a stranger, he takes his chances. It was a girl. Not just any girl. One that didn't stalk him, rather intrigued him. One named Max. FAX.

**Author's Note: **Hmm… This is a drama game. But that's where the general idea comes from; a park bench. All for now :)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Maximum Ride.

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**Chapter 1: The Park Bench**

He spent his summer afternoons dodging stalkers in the form of teenage girls and maneuvering his way through the various pathways of the park, sitting his bottom on any abandoned park bench he could find.

It seemed as if whichever bench he sat at, the next day, a new stalker would be on patrol there, waiting for him to appear so they could pounce. He was highly aware of them, but they did not realize it. And he was also aware of the fact each girl carried a walkie-talkie on them, so when ─ and if ─ he was spotted on a bench, they could ambush them.

Like today, for instance.

He strolled through the park in a timely manner, although he was on his toes, ready to sprint if any girl caught sight of him. Clad in black, with black hair and midnight eyes, he looked straight ahead of him as he nonchalantly continued his afternoon walk.

Why he walked through the same park every summer day, when he knew that there were hormonal crazed girls waltzing through there never ceased to amaze him. But he'd take the rabid girls, rather than the hate and neglecting at home any day of the week.

Casually looking over to his right, he spotted an empty park bench. Finally. Peace and quiet. For a day at least. He plopped himself down on the wooden seat, and rested his neck against his arms on the back of the bench. Taking his chances, he closed his eyes, glad to be sitting in the fresh, cool realm of the outdoors, rather than the opposite; his home.

A rustling noise was clear as day in the silent afternoon, besides the occasional rustling of the wind filtering through the trees and bushes. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking them a bit to get moisture back in them, as he casually looked to his right, where a tree was.

There it was. The flash of straight red hair. The head stalker, who actually organized the stalker club, gathering more girls by the second. He could hear the beep of the walkie-talkie, as she hastily whispered, "Fang report. Bench 152. Send girls immediately." _Bench 152? How exactly did they count these things? _Fang thought.

This particular girl would not let the fact that Fang rejected her go. Her name was Lissa.

She had the most vibrant, natural shade of red hair, as if her head was on fire. Lissa was admittedly pretty, but she had the most annoying quality of persistence one could contain. Sure, it may be a useful trait in certain occasions, but now, it was, in a way, being a bitch.

She'd stalked him since eight grade, middle school year. And they were now entering the senior year of high school. Persistent one indeed

Fang, realizing she was calling the girls in, and shifted his position so he could get up and move. But he couldn't. His arms were stuck. In fact, they were _tied behind his neck_. How the hell had he gotten in this position? He couldn't move, and would have to endure the abnormal purring and stroking of the girls.

Today, was _not_ his day.

He saw the girls coming from all directions, and for a moment, Fang imagined them all as zombies cornering him, like in the movie _Zombieland_. Shuddering, he removed that thought from his mind ─ these girls were much, much worse. He'd rather have his brains eaten by zombies than harassed by a mob of fan girls _any day._

He maintained his emotionless facade, as he prepared himself for the torture and practically groping to come. This wasn't the first time he was foolish enough to close his eyes. But he hoped it was the last.

In all, there appeared to be about twenty girls. Each with bright faces coated with make-up coating the entire layer of skin, lips bright red. God, the color res had never looked so unappealing. He would never live up to this.

There was one exception in the hoard of girls. She was trailing in the back. Her face was make-up free, and her hair a natural sun-streaked blonde, but that was all Fang saw before the girls tackled him.

They were invading his personal bubble; hands slipping up under his shirt ─ thankfully not his pants ─ slimy lips coating his neck and face, tugging of the hair, breasts squished up against him. It was horrifying, and Fang couldn't do anything about it. He struggled against his bonds ─ that was how he escaped the last time ─ but was appalled to feel the cool metal of _handcuffs_ around his wrists.

He would have to live through it, and then take a scalding hot shower afterwards. A girl was straddling him, 'hogging' him all to herself. Lissa. And then her hot pink, busy lips were thankfully pulled away from Fang's, as her head jerked backwards. Lissa shot up, angry, and glaring at the rest of the girls. Then, one girl tripped, falling on another, creating a messed up domino chain.

Fang swung his arms over to the front of him, rather than behind his neck, and trudged through the girls screeching about their hair, nails, and clothes.

Whoever helped him, he was sadly indebt to. And he had a hunch as to who exactly this was.

He really needed a nap.

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**Can anyone guess who it was that saved dear Fang? **

**I felt the need to post something, update, whatever. I didn't have anything ready, except for this that I wrote a while back. I hope you enjoyed either way. ****This chapter explained everything about what happens at the park benches. I'm still contemplating the length of this story...**

**As a heads up, I don't know if this will be regularly updated. Hopefully, but most likely not. I'll try!**

**Thank you Sketched Hero for the beta though. A while back, but a good beta none-the-less.**

**Thanks! Read, REVIEW, _Love_, and Spread the Joy!**

~Fluffy Bunnies Are So Cute ~:) **[4/15/12 TAX DAY!]**


	2. Not Home

**Summary: **He was handsome. But he was silent to the girls that continuously flirted with him at the park benches. He moved benches daily, swiftly dodging and maneuvering around all the stalkerish girls. When he has no place to sit besides next to a stranger, he takes his chances. It was a girl. Not just any girl. One that didn't stalk him, rather intrigued him. One named Max. FAX.

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the long wait. Here's the chapter, and thanks for all the reviews! I also apologize for the horridly disturbing chapter before. Hmm… I should've warned you. I believe that is the only… scene… like that, just so you understand what poor Fang has to go through. Enjoy!

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**Chapter 2: Not Home**

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It had begun to rain, as he trudged away from the park on the sidewalk. Fang's hair plastered to his face, as his clothes did as well, and he was soaked to the bone. Yet he didn't shiver, he didn't yell for his horrible luck, he didn't scream in fury. Fang simply walked, foot after foot along the concrete pavement, until he reached the familiar dirt covered road.

No longer dirt, the muddy path sloshed under his feet, splattering upwards with every drop of pressure applied from the rain drops and his weight. Worms erupted from the surface, welcoming the water as if it was their savior.

If only Fang had a savior of his own.

Following the mud-road, he approached the only place he could call home. But it wasn't. All it was, was a sturdy house built in the middle of a forest, that Fang and his — what wasn't even slightly close to a — family lived in.

As he neared the brown, wooden door, Fang let out a sigh, and shivered, the water finally getting to him. After all, he _was_ walking for at thirty minutes with cold bursts of rain pelted on his skin. At least the numbness took away the feeling of violation from his black-clad body.

He stretched out his hands, still bound together by the cuffs to grasp the door handle, and inhaled slightly. Pushing the door, it opened with a squeak, and a puff of smoke and alcohol reeked into the fresh air. It was a stale, unpleasant scent, and made Fang want to vomit. This was one of the reasons why he took those walks everyday in the park. _This_ was why his house was not considered 'home' in his mind.

"Heeeyyy Faaang," his mother slurred, drawing out her vowels. Fang's mother was obviously drunk, but not wasted enough to be incomprehensible. When was his mother _or_ father ever _not _drunk?

All Fang could be thankful for was the fact that both his guardians had enough pride to never get completely drunk. He didn't know what would happen if that ever occurred. They never hit him, but always neglected him. Fang didn't know which was worse. The physical pain or the emotional; which pain would he rather have inflicted on him?

Another thing he was grateful for was the fact that they'd actually talk to him. Drunk or not, he had someone to have partial conversations to. He could talk to them about anything; say _anything_ and his parents wouldn't remember it the next day. It was a good way to vent his anger. It was the reason why he became silent.

"Hey Mom," he muttered quietly, taking a seat on the patched up couch beside his mother. Empty beer bottles littered the ground, but drunk or not, Fang's mom was still OCD, and so they were lined up against the wall, all the labels categorized and facing outward. "I got attacked again today."

"By thooosseeee giiiirlieees?" she asked, looking up at him with the same onyx eyes he inherited. His mother was always the one closest to him, even before they became drunkards, and just looking at her hurt Fang's heart.

He nodded solemnly, amazed by the fact that his mother remembered his previous complaints. Perhaps it was because he told her about the stalker-club everyday. Or because his mother always had a good memory. "Yeah. By those girls. They got me today," he muttered bitterly, staring holes into the beer stained carpet. Fang glanced at his mother who was staring at him with tired, sympathetic eyes.

"Baaaad… Not n-ice," she hiccupped, shaking her head as if to clear her jumbled thoughts. Fang nodded, agreeing with his drunk mother. She began giggling hysterically, and her eyes glazed over, as her attention diverted from Fang.

"But someone saved me," he said quietly, watching his mother fall back to sleep. "It was a girl. She wasn't like the others…" Fang's hands clasped together, the metal handcuffs cooling his skin. "She was different. Genuine."

"Thaaank…" Fang's mother mumbled under her breath. It was so quiet, that Fang almost didn't catch it.

Fang raised an eyebrow. "What?" he wondered, trying to decipher the meaning behind his drunk mother's words. "What do you mean?" he asked again. However, there was no response, and Fang was left to think it through alone.

_Thank_. What did she mean by that one simple word? It is one that is used often now days, sometimes in a sarcastic manner. It is used to show appreciation or gratitude. So what did his mother mean? Was she trying to tell Fang something?

_Thank. _Thank Fang? Thank God? Hell, thank _beer_? _Alcohol_? None of them made sense. His mother wasn't one to thank him — especially in a drunk condition —, and they weren't a religious family. The latter of the options didn't seem right, even if it was more of a possibility than the others.

_Thank_. Thank the girl; the girl that saved him. That made sense. Was his mother less drunk than usual, to the point that she was sober enough to listen to her son, and give _advice_?

Footsteps clobbered down the stairs. They were heavy, and sounded unstable, although it could've been the weakened planks of wood. They were the footsteps of Fang's father.

He was normally more sober than his mother, for he was the one that worked to supply the money, but Fang's father tended to completely ignore his son. When he was absolutely required to speak with Fang, they were terse words, with a sharp edge to it. Fang was not supposed to be born, in his mind. Therefore, he hated Fang; the accident, also known as his son. Yet there was that small piece of himself in Fang, and Fang's father chose to ignore Fang, than abuse him.

Fang watched his father descend the stairs, without even a glance in Fang's direction. His stubble of a beard was neatly shaved, meaning he wasn't drunk — or else there'd be small cuts where the blade had nicked the skin — and that he was heading off to work. Appearance was supposedly mandatory at his father's job, although Fang had no idea what his father actually did. All he knew was that he brought in enough money to live off of.

His father exited the house with a slam of the door. The rain had stopped, and the sun reappeared from behind the dark, stormy clouds. Fang couldn't help but wonder why whatever God up in the heavens had decided to torture him on such a beautiful day.

Trudging up the stairs Fang's father had just come down from previously, Fang sauntered into the bathroom, and warmed up a nice hot shower to sooth the goose bumps on his body. He managed to wriggle his thin wrists out of the metal cuffs using soap and water, before proceeding to strip his clothes off, and step into the shower.

The water rushed down his bare back and neck, washing away all the lip-gloss and invisible handprints.

And all the while, that girl was on his mind.

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**Hey everyone! This hasn't been up in a while, although I wrote it a while ago… Anyways, thank you all SO much for the reviews!**

**Please check out my other stories!...? Especially Roses!**

**Thanks! Read, REVIEW, _Love_ and Spread the Joy!**

~Fluffy Bunnies Are So Cute ~:) **[5/12/12]**


	3. The McDonalds Encounter

**Summary: **He was handsome. But he was silent to the girls that continuously flirted with him at the park benches. He moved benches daily, swiftly dodging and maneuvering around all the stalkerish girls. When he has no place to sit besides next to a stranger, he takes his chances. It was a girl. Not just any girl. One that didn't stalk him, rather intrigued him. One named Max. FAX.

**Author's Note: **Shorter wait? Not so much… Oops :) Thanks for all the reviews!

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**Chapter 3: The McDonalds Encounter**

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_Relief. _

That was what Fang felt.

His skin was clean, and his mind refreshed. The muck from those girls was long gone, swirling down the shower drain, like bad memories. They leave you over time, and you're glad they're gone, not missing them the slightest bit.

It was dark now, from what Fang could tell as he peered through the windows. The rain had eventually slowed to the rhythmic _pitter-patter_, and the worms had receded into the ground.

Only a handful was left, hidden on the surface of the mud, rejoicing in the last drops of water for another few days. There was no doubt that some would dry out and wither in that time spent waiting.

He sighed, running his hand through his damp hair, as he leaned against the wall. The sounds of his mother snoring were audible, even all the way on the second level, and from what Fang could tell, his father was not back either.

Fang strolled to his room, dragging his bare feet across the stained carpet. Opening the door to the room, a whiff of fresh air came out; his room was the only one that was smoke/alcohol free. Even the bathroom had the musky old smell.

His feet moved towards the unkempt bed, and Fang collapsed on it, exhausted. The energy seemed to be drained from his body, as if the mob of girls had sucked it from him. His eyes flickered shut, once, twice, three times.

And then there was a knock on the door.

Groaning, he picked his weary body off his bed and headed down the stairs, step by step. When Fang reached the bottom of the stairs, he paused for a moment, pondering who it was.

It surely wasn't his father; he had his own house key.

Fang shrugged to himself and opened the door, to reveal Iggy Knight, pyromaniac and his best bud. He nodded at him and held the door open even wider.

Iggy shook his head 'no', and gestured for Fang to come outside. He put his shoes on, grabbed a jacket, and followed Iggy, who had already exited the property.

"Hold up, man!" he called, catching up with Iggy.

Iggy looked back at his friend. "You eat?" Fang shook his head in response. "Let's go; Mickey D's awaits us!" Fang rolled his dark eyes in response, yet he continued to follow him.

They walked on the slightly damp dirt road until it faded to concrete once more and then continued even further down the street. The streetlights were on, the dim light given off illuminating the street. Step by step, he followed Iggy, slightly behind him, his hands shoved in the worn pockets of his jeans.

Soon, the two boys passed the park, and Fang couldn't help but shudder as he remembered the events from earlier in the day. Iggy noticed this slight movement and his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Fang had told him of the events that occurred in the park, but today must have been exceptionally bad. Iggy could only guess what it felt like to be assaulted by a hoard of rabid girls.

"You okay?" Iggy questioned hesitantly. His tone was worried, not it's usual joking demeanor. He glanced at Fang, only to see his obsidian eyes boring into the cement ground. "You look like you're trying to carve into the concrete with all that staring."

The dark-haired one shifted his gaze from the ground to his friend. He took a deep breath, deciding he should tell someone — admitting the events of the day to his drunk mother does not count. "They got me today."

Iggy winced. That was never good, and it was always a touchy subject for Fang. "They effing _handcuffed _me," Fang said in a bitter voice. "Where the _hell_ did they find _handcuffs_?"

"Lissa's dad is police, don't you know? She probably got him to give her one, or stole it," Iggy supplied as he shrugged.

Fang glared. "Rhetorical question, Iggy," he muttered, before stopping. They had arrived in front of McDonalds, the bright yellow "M" glowing in the sky above them.

Heading in through the glass double doors, Fang removed his hands from his pockets and pulled out his wallet. Iggy stopped him. "I'll pay, dude." He sighed and walked to one of the numerous tables, sitting down.

Minutes later, Iggy came to join him. "Big Mac and fries okay with you?" Fang nodded, causing Iggy to chuckle lightly. "Good, because that's what you got and I'm not trading."

He got back up and headed to the counter, shortly coming back with a tray in his hands. Fang grabbed his meal, gave a nod of thanks to Iggy, and then opened up the wrapper. "What'd you say you ordered for me?" Fang asked.

"Big Max and fries," was the reply Iggy gave, attempting to swallow all the food in his over-stuffed mouth.

Sighing, Fang stood up. "Order's wrong."

"I asked for a Big Mac, but instead I got this," Fang explained, placing the food on the counter. "Can you fix it?"

The person at the counter scoffed. "Who do you think you are, Bob the Builder?" they asked sarcastically. Fang jerked his head up to look at the girl.

"Look, I just want to ea —," he began to say, when he finally looked at the girl's face. It was the girl who had helped him get away from that other mob of obsessed girls. Fang would recognize her hair anywhere — long, wavy blonde with natural streaks — which was now pulled into a messy ponytail. And her face was the same round, tan complexion with high cheekbones, sprinkled with small freckles.

"Dude, I know, I'm hot," she chuckled dryly, "but you really need to stop checking me out."

Fang's face heated up the slightest bit and his eyes widened a fraction. He was _not_ checking her out — just staring… very intently — because he wanted to make sure it was the girl that helped him. "I was _not_ —,"

"Oh, yes, you _were_," she interrupted. "I don't have all day, so what else do you want?"

He sighed, annoyed by this girl. "I told you, I want my or —,"

"Look down," she cut in again. And sure enough, there was a Big Mac right there. "Done now?"

Fang nodded. "Yeah." He turned to leave, but decided against it. "Are you the girl that helped me at the park?" he asked bluntly.

"No, I'm not," was her quick reply.

Fang's eyebrows rose. "Will you be there tomorrow?"

Her face blanched and she averted her gaze from him, to the exit behind Fang. "I'm always there. Your order is complete, have a nice day and enjoy your meal," she said nonchalantly, before busying herself with cleaning the counters.

He turned around once again, his sandwich in his hands. But not before looking at the girl's nametag.

In bright, red letters, was her name.

_Max_.

Smiling a bit to himself, Fang headed over to the table Iggy was sitting at, to find him already done with his lunch. Ignoring Iggy's curious look, he walked out the door.

"Who pulled a stick out of your ass?" he yelled behind Fang, rolling his eyes at the people who gave him odd looks. "No, really, who did?" Iggy trailed off, confused.

And all Fang did was smirk.

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**YAY. I liked this chapter. It seemed very depressing, but then after meeting Max, Fang goes from: **_**"Leave me alone,"**_** to, **_**"I'm going to do my smile (ish thing) and you don't know why!"**_

**Yeah. So the update WILL be sooner! I promise. The exact date is up on my profile (I'm too lazy to go look it up now…).**

**Thanks! Read, REVIEW, **_**Love**_**, and Spread the Joy!**

~Fluffy Bunnies Are So Cute ~:)


	4. Search and Find

**Summary: **He was handsome. But he was silent to the girls that continuously flirted with him at the park benches. He moved benches daily, swiftly dodging and maneuvering around all the stalkerish girls. When he has no place to sit besides next to a stranger, he takes his chances. It was a girl. Not just any girl. One that didn't stalk him, rather intrigued him. One named Max. FAX.

**Author's Note: **Thanks _Anna Ride_ and _Unicorn. Bubbles. AWESOMENESS._ for updating for me :) I don't like this chapter much. Hmm.

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**Chapter 4: Search and Find**

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"So, who was that girl who you were flirting with at the counter?" Iggy asked, as they walked back to Fang's house. "You looked almost the same as you did before your parents…" he trailed off.

"Decided to get drunk one night and never become sober again?" Fang filled in dryly.

Iggy nodded slightly. "Well, all I'm trying to say is that it looked like you turned your charm on again and _God_, that's relieving to see."

Fang rolled his eyes. "Turned my charm on?" he scoffed. "Iggy, it's _always_ been there, but no, I was not trying to 'charm' her."

"See!" he pointed out, his pale blue eyes lighting up. "Your mood! It's different than when we were walking to McDonalds! Like meeting that cashier suddenly changed your life!" Iggy exclaimed dramatically.

"Yeah, sure, definitely," Fang replied.

"SEE! There too! Before you probably would have been like, 'Shut the hell up,' and flip me off," he cried, imitating Fang's husky voice. "But now you're all like, 'Whatever,' about it!"

He groaned. "Shut the hell up, Iggy."

Iggy grinned. "No can do. When Fang randomly decides to change his attitude, you expect me to shut up? No way, Josie!"

"It's Jose," Fang corrected. "And that's your street," he nodded to his right where the street sign was.

"Buh-bye, Fangy-dear!" Iggy called out, grinning.

Fang flipped him off and walked away, stifling a laugh.

…

He was at the park again the next day. However, today was different; Fang had two reasons to be there. The first was always the same: avoiding home. But the second was new. He was searching for Max.

The previous day, Fang had left McDonalds with… a mission, so to speak. He was determined to find Max the next day at the park and confront her again.

Fang also had many questions with unknown answers, that only Max would know the right response to. Why did she help him? Why did she deny it when he asked? Why does she go to the park everyday?But most importantly, why has Fang never seen her there before?

Glancing all around him, Fang looked for Max, simultaneously making sure no girl would spontaneously pounce on him. When he assured himself that there were no girls from the stalker club in area, he lightened up on his feet.

But there was still no Max, so he kept walking.

He must have passed at least fifty park benches before he saw a flash of hair. Slowly walking closer to it, Fang noticed it wasn't Max's hair; it was dark brown. His eyes widened in alarm, but soon narrowed.

"No Fang at bench 23, over," the girl said into the walkie-talkie. Fang smothered a chuckle — _if only she knew_.

Fang inched closer to her, his breaths light so she wouldn't hear him. He silently stretched his arm over her shoulder, not in her view, and quickly snatched the walkie from her hands.

She whirled around and opened her mouth to scream, but Fang stepped forward and covered her mouth with his hand. "Don't even try," he said lowly, his eyes telling her to shut up.

He slowly backed up, still looking in the girl's eyes, and when he was a fair distance away, he sprinted. Soon after he took off running, he heard a yell come from the girl's direction, most likely summoning other girls.

Holding the radio to his ear, Fang smirked as he listened.

"Who screamed, over?"

"What happened, over?"

"Did you see him, over?"

"What's he wearing today? I bet it's hot, over."

"THERE HE IS!" Fang held the walkie closer to his ear, waiting for the, 'Over', but it never came. Because the voice wasn't through the walkie-talkie.

Looking up, he spotted the same brunette he had stolen the radio from. "GIRLS, I FOUND HIM!" she yelled, waving wildly in his direction.

And so, Fang began to run again. Now, he wasn't looking for the mob of girls — they were right behind him — and he wasn't looking for Max — there wasn't any time. Fang was searching for a used bench, especially one with an old lady.

Surely they wouldn't harass him then, _right_?

Turning smoothly, he dodged pedestrians, dogs, and vendors, in search of a used bench. _Used bench… Used bench… Used bench…_ he chanted inwardly. So far, he didn't have much luck. He rounded another corner, legs still in motion. And that's when he spotted Max.

Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, stuffed under a white visor, and she was wearing a loose t-shirt and white shorts. Fang sighed in relief when he found her and he sprinted in her direction.

Discreetly looking behind him, he noticed that the girls were just about to turn the corner, so he grabbed Max, dragging her to a bench.

She struggled to get out of Fang's grip, but he held her tight, and made her sit next to him on the bench.

"What the hell was that for — you!" Max yelled, lowering her tone to a whisper at Fang's urgent look. "What are_ you_ doing here?" she demanded.

Fang shrugged his body tense. He could hear the girls approaching. "I told you I'd see you here."

Max rolled her eyes impatiently. "Yeah, but what am _I_ doing _here_?" she asked, gesturing to the bench.

The girls were growing closer and Fang had to act fast. "I'm sorry for doing this, but_ please_ just play along," he quickly pleaded, apologizing to her with his eyes. And as the girls passed by, he cupped Max's cheek and pressed his lips to hers, tilted his head, and grabbed Max's waist with his other hand.

Her eyes widened in shock — _how did she not see this coming?_ — but she went with it for whatever-his-name-is' sake, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulling him closer so his face would be hidden by the passing people.

Thirty or so girls passed by when Max finally pulled away, gasping for breath, just as Fang was. She narrowed her eyes at him and she got up. Fang did the same.

Max began to stomp away, but stopped at the dark haired boy's words. "I'm Fang." She turned back around and came close to Fang.

"Well Fang, this is for that stunt you just pulled," she snapped, kneeing Fang in the place where the sun doesn't shine. He bent at the waist in pain, watching Max walk away.

"Oh, and by the way, thanks for the kiss," she smirked. "But… I've had better. See you around, _Fang_."

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**So this chapter actually combined Chapter 4 and what was supposed to be 5, and so I had to come up with a new idea DX**

**But, I threw in a little "fake" kiss, so be happy!**

**Thanks! Read, REVIEW, _Love_, and Spread the Joy!**

~Fluffy Bunnies Are So Cute ~:)


	5. Max

**Summary: **He was handsome. But he was silent to the girls that continuously flirted with him at the park benches. He moved benches daily, swiftly dodging and maneuvering around all the stalkerish girls. When he has no place to sit besides next to a stranger, he takes his chances. It was a girl. Not just any girl. One that didn't stalk him, rather intrigued him. One named Max. FAX.

**Author's Note: **YO. Here's your chapter :) Mucho thanks to Sketchy for the beta!

**Sketchy: **Yeah, no problem. *Yawns.*

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**Chapter 5**: Max

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She sighed behind the counter, not caring to adjust her lopsided nametag. Why did it matter, anyway? All she did was take orders at a freaking McDonalds. She glanced at her nametag again, which read, _Max_, and re-pinned it.

Gathering her loose dirty-blonde hair, she pulled it up into a messy ponytail. Working at this dump was better than staying at the hellhole she called home.

The door of the fast-food restaurant opened and two men about her age walked in. Max's fists clenched underneath the counter. _I know that person. He was at the park yesterday. He was the one I helped from Lissa's claws._ She wasn't in the mood for an interrogation, so she hoped the strawberry-blonde man was going to order.

For once, Max was lucky, and she watched as the lighter haired one came up to the counter, and the other sat down at a table. "What would you like to order, today?" It was required for her to be polite, and she knew that, but it never said she had to look polite.

The man didn't falter under her steely gaze as he laid out her order. In fact, he maintained a smile and eye contact. Max dropped the stare, figuring the dude was too happy for his own good.

Max placed the order and another worker got it for him. Her nose crinkled in disgust. Even though she worked at McDonalds, didn't mean she had to like it. Seeing the food 'behind the scenes', so to speak, propelled her hatred even further.

When he — James Griffiths, according to his signature — left to take his seat by the other guy, Max slumped behind the counter, wishing she was at the park, sitting in the tree, listening to the activities taking place around her. Her eyes drifted shut.

"I asked for a Big Mac, but instead I got this," a voice explained, and her eyes shot open, looking at the burger on the obnoxiously red counter. "Can you fix it?"

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Who do you think you are, Bob the Builder?" they Max asked, sarcasm dripping from every word. It was the man who she helped the other day. Max closed her eyes for a second, hoping he didn't recognize her. But no, luck apparently _wasn't_ on her side today.

"Look, I just want to ea —," he began to say, before he cut himself off. He recognized her. She was sure of it, unless this man likes to stare randomly at people, pretending he knew them. Max took this time to get him his Big Mac.

Her eyes narrowed at him. "Dude, I know, I'm hot, but you really need to stop checking me out," Max said, with a bitter laugh.

She could see his eyes widen a bit and his cheeks heat up just as much. He opened his mouth to deny it. "I was _not_ —,"

An eyebrow quirked up. "Oh, yes, you _were_. I don't have all day, so what else do you want?" Max snapped, cutting him off.

The man sighed, annoyance clear in his obsidian eyes. "I told you, I want my or —"

**"Look down," Max interrupted again. His eyes shifted down, realizing his food was already there. "Done now?"**

He nodded curtly, his eyes questioning. "Yeah." He turned to leave, but decided against it. "Are you the girl that helped me at the park?" he asked bluntly.

"No, I'm not," Max denied.

His eyebrows rose, thinking intently. "Will you be there tomorrow?"

She blinked, moving her focus of attention to the red exit sign. Taking a second, Max slowly replied "I'm always there. Your order is complete, have a nice day and enjoy your meal." Her tone was dismissive and she busied herself so he would leave.

When she saw both men leaving, Max looked up from where she was cleaning the counter.

"Who pulled a stick out of your ass?" she heard the entirely too cheerful man yell at the other.

And Max couldn't help but smile.

…

Slamming the door behind her, Max left her house. Jeb's car was gone, but Dylan's was there instead, as it usually was. _Of course_, Max thought dryly. _He's always there, screwing Maya._

She jogged the way to the park, trying not to wish her life were better. It would only make her feel worse. It would tear down the wall she built over the years, to block out all the hurt.

Max entered the park, and walked the same path she did everyday, heading towards the tree. As she walked through the park, her eyes subconsciously shifted around, looking for the guy at McDonalds yesterday.

Not spotting him anyway, Max cursed herself inwardly for even hoping; even _holding_ the thought that he might be there.

Until she was pretty much tackled onto on of the benches. She struggled to get out of whoever's grip she was in, but he held her tight, and made her sit next to him on the bench.

"What the hell was that for — you!" Max yelled, lowering her tone to a whisper at the dark-haired man's urgent look. "What are_ you_ doing here?" she demanded.

He shrugged stiffly. "I told you I'd see you here."

Max rolled her eyes impatiently. "Yeah, but what am _I_ doing _here_?" she asked, gesturing to the bench.

His face had a panicked look and he managed to say, "I'm sorry for doing this, but_ please_ just play along," apologizing to her with his eyes. And as a mob of girls passed by, he cupped her cheek and pressed his lips to hers, tilted his head, and grabbed Max's waist with his other hand.

Her eyes widened in shock — _how did she not see this coming?_ — but she went with it for whatever-his-name-is' sake, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulling him closer so his face would be hidden by the passing people.

Thirty or so girls passed by when Max finally pulled away, gasping for breath, just as the other man was. She narrowed her eyes at him and she got up. He copied her.

Max began to stomp away, but stopped at the dark haired boy's words. "I'm Fang." She turned back around and came close to 'Fang'.

"Well Fang, this is for that stunt you just pulled," she snapped, kneeing Fang in gut. He bent at the waist in pain, watching Max walk away.

"Oh, and by the way, thanks for the kiss," she smirked. "But… I've had _better._ See you around, _Fang_."

To be honest with herself, there was nothing better than pressing her lips against his. But when was she an honest person?

* * *

**So, just a bit of Max's 3****rd**** Person POV. A bit of why she goes to the park everyday, and why Fang never sees her… Did y'all catch that? :)**

**Thanks for all the reviews! I have a bit of advertising too :O**

**1) Please read the stories by SMASH Girls, a co-account with Anna Ride and me.**

**2) SACA BAF, a co-account with Anna Ride, UnicornBubblesAWESOMENESS, and me.**

**3) Bloody British Git, by me**

**4) And please check out: thestarlitawards . blogspot. com. It's a writing competition Anna Ride, PiperElizabethMcLean, and I are holding! **

**Sketch: YOU FORGOT SOMEONE! *Runs in circles.***

**Oh, and I've decided to cut out my signature thing.**

**So R&R!**

**Fluffy ~:)**


	6. Sober

**Summary: **He was handsome. But he was silent to the girls that continuously flirted with him at the park benches. He moved benches daily, swiftly dodging and maneuvering around all the stalkerish girls. When he has no place to sit beside next to a stranger, he takes his chances. It was a girl. Not just any girl. One that didn't stalk him; rather intrigued him. One named Max. FAX.

**Author's Note: **It's been forever, hasn't it? :o So so so sorry! I've been busy…. And uninspired, lately. Haven't been sleeping much, either. Enjoy, anyways :3

* * *

**Chapter 6**: Sober

* * *

Strong, silent, sleek. He watched her every movement as she walked away, his lips pursed in a curious manner. Was she really all the same girl? That girl who had saved him from his harassment from all those girls? That girl who had served him a Big Mac at McDonalds? Most importantly, that girl who he had just practically _made out with_, while trying to save his own butt?

They all seemed so different… yet… alike — if that made any sense at all. He shook his head, turning his gaze away from Max. His eyes had somehow roamed down her slim body, landing on the biggest muscle there is.

_Can she really all be one person?_ Fang wondered to himself. _Are all three of those girls… Max?_

Pausing for a moment to stare off at a bird that was perched in a tree, Fang shrugged. _Must be… It _has_ to be…_

Fang stood up from the bench, slowly, his eyes wandering around the scenery, looking for any sight of the girls who partook in his 'fan club'. Honestly, he had no idea why he even had a fan club in the first place! What was there to like so much about him?

Surely, it wasn't his personality – Fang had never talked to one of those girls, besides the occasional 'Go away', or 'Get off of me,' every now and then. If it wasn't that, then was it his looks? Fang would never call himself hot… even if he knew he was.

So what was so special about him? Especially considering the condition of his par —

He stopped that thought from continuing to form, and tried to change the direction his mind was headed. A new question was in his head, and this time, he let the thought play through.

_Why is that girl, Max, so special?_

…

In all honesty, she didn't even think about looking back behind her shoulder, as she walked away from the bench where he sat. There was no urge, no feeling of longing — only disgust.

There were three categories that all guys could be classified in: sexist jerks, idiotic jerks, and the arse-holish jerks. 'Fang' fit into all three. She shook her head. _I mean, seriously! Who _does_ that?_

Max scoffed to herself as she walked down the same path she did every day. _He probably kisses random girls on a daily basis. _Pausing mid-step for a second, Max shook her head. _I shouldn't even be thinking this… It would sound like jealousy to an outsider's view. _

And she knew that she was anything but jealous.

With a sigh, she walked up the dreadfully familiar steps of the front porch, taking in her father's absent car, instead, replaced by the one of Maya's boyfriend, Dylan.

_Great, _she thought. _As if my day couldn't get any worse. _

Stepping into her home, she was overwhelmed with the sound of guttural moans and groans and the ridiculous odor of sex. Max shook her head to herself, stepping out of her shoes, and placing them by the edge of the doormat.

What else had she expected? She and her dad weren't home, and Maya and Dylan were… alone. It wasn't the least bit surprising, but that didn't mean that Max was any less disgust each time. It was one of the reasons she dreaded going home—one of the reasons she spent her days wandering around the clean, _fresh air_, in the park.

"Oi, Max!" Maya called, walking in with a robe around her otherwise bare body. "You're home early?"

Max shot Maya a stare, before rolling her eyes at her sister's absurdity. It wasn't like Max didn't know what was going on—she only wondered how her _father_ didn't know. "Yeah."

Maya looked at her sister, not in a disapproving way, but more of a curious one. A grin broke out on her face. "Did you finally get some?" she asked her twin sister, who was drinking a glass of water.

Max choked on her drink, spraying droplets of water everywhere. "_What?_" she demanded. "What did you just say?" Her eyes narrowed at her sister's false accusation. How could she just automatically assume that?

There was a shuffling noise and soon Dylan was standing beside Maya, his arm around her shoulders, in only a pair of pants. Max rolled her eyes once again as Dylan began pampering her sister's face with light kisses.

She began to walk out of the room before their actions… _broadened_… but stopped when Maya pulled away from Dylan. "I was just curious, you know… your lips are swollen." And with a wink and a smile, Maya dragged Dylan by the hand out of Max's sight.

Her fingers subconsciously fumbled across her bottom lip, replaying what had happened only hours before.

_His arm around her waist, pulling her closer… The softness of his lips against hers… His enticing scent…_

She shook her head clear. What was she thinking? It was an arse-hollish move, and never should have happened, and she _certainly_ shouldn't be day-dreaming about it.

The disgusting odor of the house must be getting to her.

…

Sober.

It was a word he honestly hadn't been sure his mother knew, let alone practiced.

Apparently she did… and apparently… she was completely and utterly sober.

When Fang arrived home from the park, he found the house to be absolutely clean—the first thing he noticed, being the beer bottles that were normally upright against the wall, organized inside the blue recycling bin he never realized they had.

"Mom?" Fang asked cautiously, turning the handle of the front door and pushing it open.

She walked in, a spotless white apron around her waist, and a bright smile on her face. Her black, slightly graying hair, was pulled back neatly into a braid, and her sparkling green eyes were shining brightly, with a happiness he hadn't seen in years.

Moments later, he was engulfed within her arms, inhaling her maternal, motherly scent, rather than the usual stench of alcohol and sometimes even vomit. "Fang… my baby…" she muttered into his chest, seeing he was taller than her. "I'm so sorry, hon."

He could feel the tears coming up. When was the last time she had sober? He couldn't even remember. And now… right now… his mother was back. And then he let the tears loose. "Mom… You're back…"

"I'm back…" his mom sobbed with a smile. "I'm back."

The next morning she was drunk again.

* * *

**Notes:**

Ah, that must have been harsh for poor Fang. He's a mommy's boy :3

The thing about Maya. So Maya and Max don't hate each other… Max just doesn't like how Maya's always screwing around with Dylan… y'know? She actually likes her when Dylan's not there, or it's her all her family together… Which isn't often.

Sorry for the (long) wait… I've had the first part of this chapter for a while though -.-

**R&R**

Fluffy ~:)


	7. Spiteful Perfection

**Summary: **He was handsome. But he was silent to the girls that continuously flirted with him at the park benches. He moved benches daily, swiftly dodging and maneuvering around all the stalkerish girls. When he has no place to sit beside next to a stranger, he takes his chances. It was a girl. Not just any girl. One that didn't stalk him; rather intrigued him. One named Max. FAX.

**Author's Note: **Herro my fwiends :3

* * *

**Chapter 7:** Spiteful Perfection

* * *

The park seemed so much bleaker that morning.

Dull.

Gray.

Austere.

Desolate.

Everything was, in fact. It was as if he was looking at his life through a camera lens, and the setting had been put to black and white—colorless and silent.

Even though he had gone to the park to clear his head, clear his mind, his worries, it did nothing to reconcile him, nothing to calm him, nothing to soothe him and free his mind. It was all pointless. Absolutely _pointless._

He was full of spite; that was a fact. Full of spite not towards his alcoholic mother—no, _never_ would he be malevolent towards her—but towards the alcohol itself, the alcohol that had somehow wrapped his once gentle mother around its vicious finger, ensnaring her in its drunken trap.

Fang kicked a rock across the gravel path as his hands clenched together from its position, buried deep into his pockets. Cruel thoughts barged their way into his head; cruel, unwanted thoughts.

His jaw clenched, grinding his upper teeth into his bottom molars. Each step he took along the stones and pebbles would seem so laborious from an outsiders view—so strenuous to him.

That had been the first time in over a year he had seen his mom be completely sober. He had always cherished that hope that she would one day stop drinking and stay that way, and to think, he thought that day had come yesterday.

His hope had simply shattered.

Now he knew the full extent of Life's games; the games that Life would play on people, deceiving them, tricking them, manipulating them to bend at its will until finally, they would just snap.

What had he done to deserve this? he thought to himself. What mortal sin had he committed causing him to take a downward spiral in the game of Life? Why couldn't he just go to Hell instead of this rancorous life he had been born into? And most of all, why take it out on his mother?

A twig snapped, the familiar crackling sound of a radio hitting his ears. Did these girls have no life? Nothing better to do during their summer days than to stalk him?

…

Dad wasn't in the house again, so neither would she be. The day would never come when she would willingly be left alone in the house with Maya and her boyfriend.

She sat on a bench, the sun high above her head, its rays shining down on her reddish-blonde hair. It was one of the nicer days of the summer—bright, sunny, but not overbearingly hot, with the occasional gust of wind.

It was for days like these she spent most of her free time outside; these near perfect days, where she could sit down on a bench for a few minutes and fall into a serene sleep for hours.

Her eyelids fluttered shut over her chocolate eyes in one gradual motion, growing tired and heavy. With the sun on her face, she basked in the warmth radiated from the glowing star in the sky.

All thoughts clear of home, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Warmth.

Sun.

Wind.

Quiet.

_Perfection_.

A body slid next to he, on the same bench, and her eyes flew open in minor alarm. The first things she can see are the dark obsidian eyes that she had recently become accustomed to. Eyes portraying immense panic.

She half expected him to kiss her again, but what would be the fun in that?

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her with him, off the pathway and into a dark grove of trees, so they're sitting on their knees amongst a bed of pines. One of his hands clamped over her mouth, his eyes an unrecognizable color of emotion, _begging_ her to keep silent as a small band of girls in heels came rushing by.

When they all passed, he removed his hand from her mouth, and with a sigh, he collapsed backwards onto the ground.

Max remained on her knees, simply blinking and trying to recall what had just happened.

"Wha—"

"Thanks." He cut her off, and instead of frustrated, she's surprised.

"Thanks?"

Eyes closed, he shook his head and replied, "No need to thank me."

Max rolled her eyes. "No, why are you thanking _me_?"

He looked at her with a small, impish grin, something bright flashing through his previously mundane eyes. "You didn't knee me in the balls this time."

She let out an unexpected snort, before ending up in full-fledged laughter. "Would you like me to?"

Rather than some snarky comment she knew was up his sleeve, he simply shook his head. "Nah."

Max left it at that, saying no more, no less. She picked herself off the pine needle-covered ground, brushing the excess dirt off her hands and wiping them down on her jean-clad legs.

For a moment, she stared out into the greenery of the park, shrouded behind the forest she was currently in. From the trees, the day didn't seem as bright, as perfect. "Fang," she said, her back facing him. "Let's go."

She could sense his hesitation, but when she heard him pull himself to his feet, she marched out of the trees, emerging into sunlight. It looked the same, felt the same, smelled the same as before, but now she didn't perceive it the same way.

Nothing was ever perfect. Not even the prettiest of days.

As they walked around the dirt and stone path, she saw Fang occasionally take in all the scenery around them, watching for the cohort of girls. Max slowed her pace, falling slightly behind him, and if he had noticed, he didn't comment.

Together they walked. Simply walking—no talking, no commenting, just walking.

She watched his feet as he walked in front of her, subconsciously matching his footsteps with her own. His arms were tense by his sides, hands in the pocket of his jeans, gradually stiffening and relaxing.

There was something about him… Something different than what she had originally thought of him, what with the girls and the kiss. She couldn't figure it out.

But as they walked in silence for nearly an hour and a half, she figured there was more to him. That he wasn't half as bad as he seemed.

* * *

**End Notes:**

And… We're back!

Hello! How is everyone? I've missed this story.

**I HAVE A HUGE FAVOR TO ASK OF YOU ALL.**

So my buddy, **_lukeman13_** is new to the Maximum Ride Fandom, and he's recently just posted a story called _We're Just Getting Started._

Could you all just head over to his profile and send him a quick review of encouragement, and welcome him officially to the Maximum Ride Fandom?

And of course, if he's satisfied with the opinions and such he got, I might just update something this weekend again… Who knows? ;)

So go go go! Send him those reviews and follow that story!

Thank you all so much :333

Xoxo

_Fluffy_


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